


turn off the lights when you leave

by sophiahelix



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: FaOI 2018, Football | Soccer, Getting Together, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 17:39:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15152300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiahelix/pseuds/sophiahelix
Summary: “Hey,” Javi says, and has to cough to clear his sleep-raspy throat. “What’s up?”“Football?” Yuzu says, like it’s obvious. “I thought you say, come watch here.”“I didn’t think that anyone would come,” Javi says, and yawns. “It’s really early.”Yuzu shrugs. “I bring my pillow. So if it’s boring, I can sleep.”





	turn off the lights when you leave

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the anons who sent prompts about them watching the Spanish matches in the World Cup and Javi watching Yuzu sleep. 
> 
> Title is an experiment in seeing how many times I can use lyrics from the same song. Up to three stories now.
> 
> Note: slightly edited after it was pointed out I had a few match times wrong. Time zones! *shakes fist*

The coffeemaker has just finished hissing when there’s a knock on Javi’s door. He puts down his mug and crosses the darkened hotel room, rubbing his eyes. He’s still half asleep, this early, and he can’t imagine who’s on the other side.

After looking through the peephole, he still can’t really imagine it. Javi flips the deadbolt and opens the door to see that he isn’t dreaming and Yuzu is actually out in the hall, wearing workout clothes with a pillow under his arm. Yuzu smiles, raising his eyebrows.

“Hey,” Javi says, and has to cough to clear his sleep-raspy throat. “What’s up?”

“Football?” Yuzu says, like it’s obvious. “I thought you say, come watch here.”

“I didn’t think that anyone would come,” Javi says, and yawns. “It’s really early.”

Yuzu shrugs. “I bring my pillow. So if it’s boring, I can sleep.”

“Oh good,” Javi says, rolling his eyes. “But it’s not gonna be boring. Come on in.”

He finishes making his coffee, not bothering to offer Yuzu any. He knows Yuzu won’t drink anything but those canned coffee drinks they have in vending machines here. When he turns around again Yuzu is making himself comfortable on the far side of the bed, propped up with most of Javi’s pillows and his own beneath his head.

Javi sits down next to Yuzu, settling himself against the headboard. “It’s a good thing that nobody else came.”

Yuzu glances over at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I don’t have enough pillows for everyone.”

Yuzu just scrunches his face up and turns away again, smiling.

The match starts, and Javi leans in, watching closely. In the fourth minute there’s a foul in the box and a penalty kick for Portugal. Javi has to briefly explain who Ronaldo is — how could _anyone_ not know? — and then he’s shouting at the TV, almost spilling his coffee as the ball shoots into the goal. “Casillas would have had that,” he snaps, even though he knows it’s probably not true.

“Who’s that?” Yuzu asks.

Javi shakes his head. “Just my favorite player,” he says, without looking away from the screen. “He’s old now, but he would be doing better than this.”

It’s strange to have Yuzu here in his hotel room, in the middle of the night, but as the match goes on Javi mostly forgets about him. When Spain equalizes twenty minutes later, Yuzu’s quiet, and Javi looks over to see him with his eyes shut, body relaxed and loose against the pillows. 

Javi almost makes a joke, talking loudly to wake Yuzu up, but something stops him. If Yuzu wanted to come here at three in the morning to nap on Javi’s bed, that’s fine. They never see much of each other on these tours, and they won’t be seeing much of each other in the future either. Maybe Yuzu just wants to spend a little time together before everything’s over.

He tries to keep it down a little, letting Yuzu sleep, even though Spain keeps blowing every shot attempt, but when Ronaldo scores again just before the end of the first half Yuzu finally wakes up. 

“Fuck, you stupid clowns, can’t you cover him?” Javi shouts in Spanish. “You _bastards_.”

There’s movement on the other side of the bed, and when Javi looks, Yuzu is opening his eyes, blinking sleepily. “Cabrónes? It must be bad.”

Javi smiles ruefully. Yuzu’s picked up a little Spanish over the years. “Yeah. Sorry the match is so boring.”

Yuzu smiles back, and closes his eyes again. 

He starts snoring faintly sometime during halftime, while Javi’s scrolling through his phone and rapid fire texting Jorge about the bullshit officiating. Javi smiles to himself, wondering if he should take some video to taunt Yuzu with later, but when he looks over Yuzu’s lying there so peacefully, hands folded on his stomach, hair falling across his eyes. He really needs to get it cut, though like this, it doesn’t look bad.

Javi forgets Yuzu again during the second half, when Spain scores two goals in three minutes and then can’t seem to do shit for the rest of the time. Both sides waste free kicks and make terrible shots, and Javi keeps up a running muttered commentary about these useless players, texting Jorge since it seems like Yuzu’s going to sleep through the whole thing.

Just before the end of the match, though, Spain gives up another free kick and Ronaldo stands in to take it. Javi leans in, biting his lip, holding his breath.

“He is going to score,” Yuzu says behind him, just as Ronaldo sends the ball sailing into the top of the net.

“ _Joder_ ,” Javi swears, and follows up with another string of Spanish curses, clenching his fists, before turning around.

“He gets a — hat trick?” Yuzu asks, squinting.

“Yeah, a triplete,” Javi says. “I told you that he was good. Fucking cabrón.”

Yuzu smiles at him, slow and broad. “I should watch football with you before. You’re more fun than the match.”

Javi keeps swearing through the last seven frustrating minutes, until the whistle blows and the disappointed Spanish side trudges off the field. It’s good they didn’t lose at least, but he can’t help feeling an uneasy tightness, like something’s unresolved, ending the first match that way.

“No one wins, right?” Yuzu asks. 

“Yeah, a draw, it’s shit,” Javi says, morosely, and slumps back against the headboard. 

“Football has dumb rules,” Yuzu agrees. “Next is another match?”

Javi shakes his head. He’s about to get up and order breakfast, getting in the shower before starting his day, but he’s surprised when Yuzu moves closer, shifting his head from his pillow to fall against Javi’s shoulder.

“Put on a movie,” Yuzu says. He yawns, and lifts his head to lean in more. “I need more sleep.”

“Uh, OK,” Javi says, glancing quickly down at Yuzu. He reaches for the remote, and flips through the channels aimlessly. He’s so conscious of the weight of Yuzu’s head on his shoulder, growing heavier, that it's hard to think about anything else. They’re athletes, and they can fall asleep anywhere, but this has never happened before.

“Sorry about your team,” Yuzu murmurs, and nuzzles in closer one more time, tucked right up against Javi’s neck.

“Thanks,” Javi says, softly, distracted. He tips his head down, carefully, until it’s touching the top of Yuzu’s, soft over-long hair against his cheek.

Yuzu’s breath is in his ear, quiet, heavy. It’s strange how comfortable this feels, natural even though it’s new. Javi wants to do something in return, make a gesture, and finally he reaches down to rest his hand on Yuzu’s leg, right above his knee. Yuzu makes a low, pleased noise, drawing his leg up closer, and then sighs.

They stay like that for a long while, as the sun comes into the room, until Javi falls asleep too.

*****

“What’s going on?” Yuzu slurs into his pillow, throwing one arm over his eyes against the light. 

“I told you that I was going to watch this tonight,” Javi says, waving a hand at him.

Yuzu groans, pulling the pillow around his face.

Football is _boring_. He had to watch three matches before Javi got the hint about why Yuzu kept showing up at three in the morning, and that was almost a week ago. He was hoping not to have to watch more.

“Somebody better score,” Yuzu mutters darkly.

He passes out for most of the first half, except when Javi wakes him by swearing viciously at a player on the Spanish team. Yuzu doesn’t know why until he struggles up to see a Russian player score a penalty goal, evening the score. He dozes through the quiet halftime, when Javi’s mostly typing on his phone, and then Yuzu lets out a huge, long-suffering yawn and rolls over, propping his head against his pillow up to watch the rest of the match. 

He’s sorry he did. No one scores, and no one scores, and he can barely keep his eyes open as the red and white players run fruitlessly up and down the field. Stoppage time runs out, and he groans.

“You stay up so late for another draw?”

Javi shakes his head, tightly. “Overtime.”

Yuzu groans again and slumps to the side, letting his head drop against Javi. It’s what he did after the first match they watched together, but Javi didn’t get the hint back then. 

Javi gets it now, putting his arm around Yuzu and holding him close. He still doesn’t look away from the screen, but his fingers wrap tight around Yuzu’s upper arm, and he turns to drop a quick kiss against the top of Yuzu’s head.

No one scores in overtime either. Yuzu gradually puts his head in Javi’s lap, one arm across his legs. Javi rubs his back a little, distracted, and combs through his hair until he pulls too hard, shouting at a missed shot, and Yuzu protests. Javi pets him more softly then, apologetic, still cursing under his breath.

This is better than the first three matches, anyway. He likes seeing this side of Javi and hearing him talk in Spanish, letting these strong emotions show. Javi’s always been an open person, but this is something new, and Yuzu finds himself smiling at Spain’s mistakes, waiting for Javi to let loose again.

“Now what happens,” he asks, when the clock stops.

“Mierda,” Javi grits out. “Penalty kicks.”

Yuzu sits up to watch as the players take their shots in turn. He doesn’t ask how this works; he can count the circles at the top of the screen, and the glowing red dot is obvious as the shootout goes on. Javi shouts at the first blocked shot, but when the Russian goalie deflects the second, kicking it high in the air as his team swarms the field, Javi just sighs, falling back against the headboard like he did when the first match ended in a draw.

He stares blankly at the screen, watching his dejected team pack their gear while the Russians celebrate. Yuzu watches him, thinking what to say, what to do.

Almost a week ago, Javi finally got the hint. His sleepy brown eyes were hesitant under lowered lashes as he leaned in, like Yuzu was going to do anything but kiss him back. They’ve spent almost every night together since then, and it feels like everything and nothing has changed. Work is the same; it’s only at night that things are different, alone together, in bed. 

He knows Javi well, after six years. How he smells, the skate laces he likes, his favorite spins and favorite Japanese food. He knows what Javi’s like when he has a bad skate or places lower than he hoped at a competition, but this isn’t the rink. Yuzu doesn’t know what Javi needs when his favorite team loses, and more than that, he doesn’t know what Javi needs from _him_ , now that things have changed.

And the show tour ended yesterday.

They both have trains to catch, later today. A flight for Javi, another award ceremony for Yuzu. They haven’t talked much about it. They haven’t talked much about anything, except for the things they always talk about. This summer felt like a last chance, so Yuzu took it, but he was never very sure what happened next.

“I’m sorry about your team,” he says, finally, just like the first morning.

This time, though, he reaches out to touch Javi like he wanted to then, laying a hand over Javi’s, resting on his knee. Javi doesn’t look away from the screen, but he moves his hand to close around Yuzu’s, squeezing it tight. Then he reaches for the remote and turns off the TV.

Yuzu can’t see, dazzled in darkness, but he feels Javi turn to him, raising one hand to cup his face. He leans in, putting his hand on Javi’s shoulder. Javi leans in too, but he stops, so close Yuzu can feel his breath.

“Japan is playing Belgium tomorrow night,” Javi murmurs. “We could watch together, on the phone.”

There’s a teasing edge in his voice, but Yuzu hears more. A note for later, a little bit of line, a dream of a future, shared. He smiles, scrunching up his face even though he knows Javi can’t see him in the dark.

“Football is boring, but you can call me anyway,” Yuzu says, and then leans in for a kiss. 

*****

“Sorry I got you up for that,” Javi says.

“It was fun, even if Japan lose,” Yuzu says. “And I not getting up for just football.”

“Mm,” Javi says. “Is that shiny big medal keeping you awake?”

“It’s not a medal,” Yuzu says.

“How was it to meet the prime minister?”

“How was it to meet the king?”

“How was it to meet the emperor?” Javi counters, but it’s with a laugh.

Yuzu yawns. “It’s very early here, you know.”

“Mm,” Javi says. “Do you know how early I got up for your show?”

“I thinking, you not go to bed.”

“Maybe,” Javi says. “But also it was my birthday.”

“I gave you gift. Everyone sing to you.”

“Yeah, and then you made fun of me. I saw the video later, with the subtitles.”

“Nice fun,” Yuzu says. “We always teasing, together. You know.”

“Yeah,” Javi says, softer. “Well. It’s very early. I should let you go to sleep.”

“Javi?” 

“Yeah?”

“We can call…tomorrow? Soon?”

“Yeah,” Javi says. “I would like that.”

“I would like that too,” Yuzu says, and neither of them speaks for a long time, just letting the warm silence linger between them, something familiar and something just beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: http://sophia-helix.tumblr.com
> 
> In case you don’t know Iker Casillas, here’s my favorite moment, being interviewed by his girlfriend after Spain won the 2010 World Cup: 
> 
> https://youtu.be/1v4Ckq0KHM0
> 
> And here’s Javi waxing on about him in Spanish:
> 
> https://youtu.be/q1GTpoCm59o


End file.
